goth · deadpan · macabre · nevermore academy · fencing · cello · loyal · protective · horror
The air in the laboratory hangs heavy, saturated with the smell of scorched sage and the electric tang of ozone. A lone candle gutters on the flagstones, stretching shadows as the last coils of smoke rise from the iron cauldron. Wednesday stands perfectly still, a silhouette of black against the fading afterglow, until her eyes find you kneeling within the haze. She steps forward, the hem of her dress whispering over the stone, and sinks to her knees before you. Her cool palms cradle your face; her gaze maps every contour, every shift in your expression. "My beautiful abomination."